They say its okay, It’s a handy oul’ group, And qualification’s a cinch. But I reckon we may Well end up in the soup – Perhaps finish fourth at a pinch. Montenegro – who they? And Georgia too? Dark horses we know nowt about. And Bulgaria, eh? We could very well rue Dismissing their sizable […]

Who was that boy that played each night With all the lads, and lasses too? With coats for goals, the old street light Would bathe him in a golden hue. I see him often in my dreams As he skips o’er the keeper’s arm, Swaddled in the moonlight’s beams That keep him nightly safe from […]

Just another wartime plane crash. They entered the wreck And viewed the crazed carnage within. The black, broken bodies Would no more suffer pain, Just three more on the road to Berlin. But look! what is this? A volunteer kneels By a wirelessman barely alive, And he bends to a face Whose expression reveals The […]

Are the Belgians apoplectic when they fail to qualify? Do they need the coach’s head upon a plate? In Budapest do untoward recriminations fly When group results do not turn out that great? Do disappointed Latvians carp bitterly and cry, Lambasting their poor manager with hate? And in shivering Helsinki, when all hope has slithered […]

She’s my blood-and-guts midfield girl, My never-wants-to-yield girl, She goes for fifty-fifties like a train. She’s my go-in-hell-for-leather girl, My let-her-off-her-tether girl, Intent on causing misery and pain. She’s my Billy-Bremner fiery girl, My tough-as-nails and wiry girl Who goes in on opponents hard and low. She’s my never-shirks-a-tackle girl, My snap-and-pop-and-crackle girl And that’s […]